Dillon gave a quick knock, and after what felt like forever, it opened. Behind it stood a buxom redheaded bombshell. Other than her smile, she was wearing nothing but pink-laced panties and a matching bra hidden beneath one of Gavin’s white button-down shirts.

Unbuttoned nonetheless.

“Wow, you look great.” Dillon beamed a smile at the woman, but it quickly dropped when Emily shot him a look.

“Hey, Dillon,” the woman rasped, pulling him in for a hug. “Like, seriously, long time no see.”

Crossing her arms, Emily shifted in her heels and plastered a smile across her face.

Dillon quickly eyed Emily, cleared his throat, and returned his attention to the woman. “It has been a long time, Natasha. I’m assuming the big man’s home? I never called to let him know I was stopping by.”

“Yeah, he’s out on the terrace with his laptop. Like, you know how he is, all work and no play,” she laughed. “I just happened to be coming out of the bathroom when you knocked.”

Dillon nodded. “Yeah, I know how he is with work.”

“Who’s this?” Natasha asked, closing the door behind them.

“This is the future Mrs. Parker,” Dillon smiled and curled his arm around Emily’s waist. “Emily, this is Natasha Bradford. She’s Gavin’s…friend?”

“I’m Gavin’s flavor of the month,” she giggled. Emily’s mouth hung slightly agape at the woman’s statement. “But it’s okay with me. I get things like this,” she giggled again as she playfully fingered a diamond necklace.

“Well, you’re lucky little duck.” Emily replied, trying to will herself not to throw up.

“I am, I am,” Natasha smiled. She then cocked her head to the side. “So, like, really, you two are engaged?”

“So, like, we’re really not,” Emily quickly answered.

“Oh, wait…I thought,” she looked to Dillon confused and smacked him on his arm. “You silly man, you had me thinking, like, you were engaged when you said she was the future Mrs. Parker.”

“Eventually she will be,” Dillon smiled, looking over to Emily.

She smiled back, inwardly praying she didn’t have to hear the word “like” again.

“Okay, well, like, come in. I’ll let him know you two are here,” Natasha laughed.

Emily sighed.

Natasha walked away to get Gavin.

“Babe, I have to use the bathroom,” Dillon said, walking down a long hallway. “I’ll be right back.”

Emily nodded.

At first glance, she noticed that the décor was a stark contrast from the warm setting of his house in the Hamptons. Although extraordinary in its own way, it felt cold and impersonal to her. Marble floors stretched from one end of the area to the next. Black leather couches, abstract stone sculptures, and colossal-sized pieces of black-and-white photos of the city consumed the enormous penthouse. No hint of color was anywhere. Holding a sense of business superiority throughout, it was exactly the space Emily had envisioned he lived in when she first met him. This wasn’t a home; this was simply what the city expected him to look like. Another one of Gavin Blake’s many layers came to her mind.

As Emily chided herself for analyzing his surroundings, Gavin stepped into view, wearing a pair of blue cotton pajama pants—shirtless. He—and his dragon tattoo curling the side of his ribcage—warmed the space almost immediately. Emily watched breathlessly as he whispered something into Natasha’s ear. She giggled at whatever he said, kissed him on the cheek, and whisked down the hall into one of the rooms, closing the door behind her.

Gavin’s eyes roved over Emily as he tried to mask the excitement he felt bleeding from his pores at the sight of her. He thought the last time he went without seeing her was an eternity; this longer stretch felt as if it was his certified death sentence. Feeling his body relax by her mere presence, he approached her with a smile.

“Sorry about that,” he ran his hand through his hair. “She has distaste for clothing or something.”

“But she has love for the word ‘like,’ so it all evens out, I guess.”

“Mmm, I never noticed that,” he replied, scratching his stomach.

“Are you kidding?” Emily laughed, trying to keep her attention on his face and away from the still lingering thought of where that tattoo begins.

He moved closer and whispered in her ear, “Of course I’m kidding. It’s annoying, but don’t tell her I told you that.”

Between the close proximity and his warm breath brushing against her skin, she thought she was going to pass out for sure. “My lips are sealed.”

In one swift motion, his gaze flicked down to her mouth then back to her face. “Do me a favor and try not to bring any attention to those pretty little lips,” he whispered, his blue eyes intense.

Emily’s mouth dropped opened and then snapped shut.

“Would you like something to drink?” he asked casually, slightly ducking his head to conceal the smile on his face.

“Are you going to watch me drink whatever you give to me? Because, I may be wrong about this, but I think I have to use my lips in order to do so.”

He cocked a brow and smirked. “It would be my absolute pleasure.”

“What would be your absolute pleasure?” Dillon’s voice cut through the air, returning from the bathroom.

Emily backed away from Gavin, almost stumbling.

“I was just telling Emily it would be my absolute pleasure to give her a tour of my place,” Gavin replied as calm, cool, and collected as could be.

“Well, before you start giving out tours, let’s get this shit done first.” Dillon handed him the towering stack of paperwork. “I need your John Hancock on every single one of these bad boys. I also want to talk with you about a few risks that I feel you are taking dropping CMEX.”

Dillon walked into the kitchen to get a drink.

Gavin gazed directly into Emily’s eyes. “I’m all about taking risks. I think it makes life a little more…exciting. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Knowing exactly what he was referring to, Emily’s heart tripled over into a somersault as she stared back at him.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea to drop them,” Dillon replied, popping the top off of a bottle of beer. He made his way back over to them. “CMEX is your security. You have so much invested in hedge funds right now; it may not be a good move.”

“You are the professional,” Gavin said with a smile. “Let’s take care of this in my office.” He then turned to Emily. “By all means, make yourself at home. Natasha should be out in a minute. I’m sure she’ll keep you…like, busy.” He winked and then disappeared down the hall with Dillon.

Emily stood mute like a statue in the living room for a moment as she tried to catch her breath. She licked her lips slowly as the tingles that Gavin evoked from within her body worked their way up from her toes to the top of her head.

So…fucking…dangerous.

Sighing, she moved out to the terrace, hoping the fresh air would soothe the chaos wreaking havoc in her mind.

Being that the penthouse was a corner unit, stunning wraparound views of Central Park and the East River immediately awed her. The terrace alone was larger than her and Olivia’s living room and both bedrooms put together. She cautiously peered over the edge to watch the city below her. Her hair whipped around in the wind as she breathed in the hot, humid August air. Although she was afraid of heights, Emily found the stillness, the assurance of solitude, and the lack of people that high up to be a calming force in that moment. The serenity of being outside alone was short-lived when Natasha strolled out of the French doors.

“It’s, like, completely breathtaking out here, isn’t it?” She joined Emily and handed her a glass of ice water.

“Thank you,” she said, accepting the drink. “It truly is beautiful up here.” She studied Natasha’s strapless, skintight black tube dress. “So where are you from?”

“California,” she giggled.